A slinky snippet…

Last week Scotty got his time in the spotlight (you can read it here). This snippet is from Mick’s POV. His car, a 1972 VW Bug, has quit on him–again–and just as he’s getting it sorted someone pulls up behind him.

The sight of the dirty white truck jump-started his heart rate before she even opened the door. Mercy got out of the cab and pushed the door closed with a thunk. She took a short moment to look him over and then approached. Her walk reminded him of Tom’s, slinky like a predator’s. He reminded himself not to tell her that, though. In Mick’s admittedly limited experience, women didn’t appreciate being compared to pets, and he didn’t want to be that kind of a jerk anyway.

Sometimes letting things get complicated is the best way to figure it all out.

Mick Randall is on the run, from the biker culture he grew up in and his impossible vision of love. Alaska should be far enough to escape his old life—until he rolls into a wrecking yard and gets lost in a pair of pale, bottle-green eyes.

Scotty Bell has spent years learning to channel his fiery temper into the heat of a welding torch. His sexual heat has always been slower to ignite, but one look at Mick rouses confusion alongside desire. In all his life, he’s only been attracted to one other person—his best friend, Mercy Taylor.

Mick lands a temporary job at the yard, and finds an uneasy crash pad at Scotty’s place, where the ragged ends of his emotions get tangled up in Scotty and Mercy’s relationship.

But when Mick hears a Harley engine from his past bearing down on him, his first instinct is to go back to the half-life he’d been living, lest his secrets destroy the only two people who’ve ever made him feel whole.

Warning: Contains references to abuse, subversive ideas about sexual identity and gender expression, and a free-range bisexual on a mission.